


We're Only Liars (But We're the Best)

by orphan_account



Series: For the Scars and Stories [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Cameos, Crack, Light Bondage, M/M, Minor Violence, Other, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharpy, dashing mobster-about-town, has much better things to do with his time than think about the crush he definitely doesn't have on Kaner and Tazer. ...Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Only Liars (But We're the Best)

**Author's Note:**

> mafia AU sequel! warning for light bondage, minor violence, and insults to the honor of the phoenix coyotes. kindly betaed by doctor_denmark.

Sharpy is at sea. Not literally; if he were _literally_ at sea, then that would mean something had gone very badly wrong with one of the families with port access. He's _metaphorically_ at sea.

"Laddy," he says, grabbing Ladd's knee. "Laddy, I'm metaphorically at sea."

"Sharpy, you're drunk," Ladd says.

"Yes," Sharpy agrees, "I'm drunk. And at sea. Metaphorically. Well, the drunk part is literal."

"Miss Burish, huh?" Ladd pats his forehead clumsily. Sharpy suspects that he might also be drunk.

"He _left,_ " Sharpy says mournfully.

"Yeah, buddy, he did."

"Texas isn't that great. What do they have? Cows? Oil?"

Ladd pats his head again. "Do you want to watch The Walking Dead?"

Sharpy sits up. "What?"

"I don't know. Some of the ladies upstairs were marathoning it when I was all..." Ladd waves one hand around his head, which Sharpy thinks is a pretty good expression of how dumb he got over his Vancouver boy. "They got me to join them to distract me, I think."

"Did it help?" Sharpy asks.

"Yeah, kinda."

"Then yes," he decides. "Let's do that."

***

Sharpy wakes up the next morning with his head in Ladd's lap. He does feel a little less at sea, but he also feels hungover. Carefully, he disentangles himself from the couch and heads downstairs.

The dining room is deserted, but the melodious strains of "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" are coming from the kitchen. Sharpy follows the music and finds Buff in front of the stove, dressed only in boxers and a Kiss the Cook apron, cooking... something.

"I'm very good at following directions," Sharpy announces, and lays a big sloppy kiss on Buff's cheek.

"Good morning, sunshine," Buff says. He kisses Sharpy's cheek back, then sticks his tongue in his ear.

"That's too friendly, Pippin!" Sharpy squawks, scrubbing at his ear.

"Sorry, sir, won't happen again, sir," Buff sing-songs. "Would some breakfast help make up for that?"

"Maybe." Sharpy peers at the frying pan. "Is it alive?"

Buff pokes at it with the spatula. "Well, not for long."

"I think it's an oatmeal day." There's always some instant oatmeal in one of the cabinets, even if "instant" is a misnomer. Waiting for the beep gives him plenty of time to get a cup of coffee as big as his head and find the maple syrup. The good stuff, not the stuff Tazer calls "telephone pole syrup."

When it's done, Sharpy makes himself comfortable at the counter and drizzles syrup onto his oatmeal.

"Ooh, that looks good," Kaner says, coming out of nowhere to drape himself over Sharpy's shoulder. "Can I have some?"

"Get your own," Sharpy says, "there's plenty." He doesn't shove Kaner away, though. He's exactly the right height to rest his chin on Sharpy's shoulder -- short, that is -- and have it be comfortable.

"Give me a bite of yours first," Kaner demands. Sharpy turns to hand him the spoon, but Kaner has his mouth open like a baby bird.

"Okay, here comes the airplane, open the hangar," Sharpy says, and flies a bite of syrupy oatmeal into Kaner's mouth. He absolutely doesn't watch Kaner's lips closing over the spoon, or the way his eyes roll back dreamily when he tastes it. That would be ridiculous.

"That really is good," Kaner says. "Maybe even better than Lucky Charms."

Buff gasps theatrically. "Sacrilege! Heresy!" he shouts, flipping his... omelette, maybe? ... whatever it is onto a plate. "How can you turn away from the true light of food dye and stale marshmallows, Kaner?" He ruffles Kaner's hair as he goes by.

"Sometimes a guy needs a change," Kaner says mildly.

He's talking about breakfast foods, Sharpy reminds himself. There's no reason that should make him feel tingly. That would be stupid, and wrong. Sharpy stuffs a huge bite of oatmeal in his mouth. He's probably just so hungry he's losing his mind. That makes as much sense as anything else.

A few minutes later, Tazer shuffles in, his hair standing up every which way, making a beeline for the coffee.

"That's a good look for you," Sharpy says. "Tell me, what did you do to your hair? What products are you using these days?"

Tazer squints at him over his mug and gingerly pats his head, as if to check. "I just woke up," he says. "I'm not even sure where I am. Don't ask me these things."

Kaner snickers. "You're always beautiful in my heart, Tazerkins," he says, hand over his heart. "Here, try my oatmeal."

Tazer looks suspicious, but he lets Kaner feed him a bite anyway. "Good," he agrees.

"Sharpy's idea," Kaner says.

"He has good ones."

"Sometimes," Sharpy says. God, he misses Burish. What does Texas have that Chicago doesn't?

"Meeting in 20," Tazer says after a few more sips of coffee. "For those of you who fell asleep in the lounge last night."

Sharpy makes a big show of looking around. "Who, me?" he asks innocently.

"I don't know, you better check for a note," Tazer says.

"I'll consider it." Sharpy scrapes the last bits of oatmeal out of his bowl, rinses it out in the sink, and brings his coffee upstairs. There is a note, of course.

It's been a while since he's spent much time in the room he used to share with Burish; Sharpy's been staying in one of the fancy waterfront condos the family owns, building up his playboy identity. It definitely isn't because he's avoiding memories or anything. That would be pathetic.

He left clothes here the last time, thank goodness. After a quick shower, Sharpy puts on a polo shirt and plaid shorts, the spring douchebag uniform, and runs a little product through his hair. Just because the others will probably still be in their pajamas is no reason for Sharpy not to look good.

"Showoff," Kaner whispers, once they're gathering in the meeting room. "You're already the handsomest. Why do you have to dress up, too?"

"That's why," Sharpy replies. "Gotta keep my edge."

***

Sharpy hangs back as the group files out of the room, but -- fitting with his luck lately -- Tazer and Kaner don't leave.

"You didn't catch any of that," Tazer says.

"I caught a little," Sharpy argues halfheartedly. "I know we... have a job?"

Tazer squints at him. "Most of your shit is at the condo, right?"

"Yeah," Sharpy says.

"Come on, I'll explain shit there. Kaner, go get us a driver."

"Aye-aye, cap'n," Kaner says, snapping off a terrible imitation of a salute, and heads out of the room.

"You've been kind of preoccupied lately," Tazer tells Sharpy, sitting back down at the table.

Sharpy follows suit. "I know," he says. "I'm sorry. I'll try --"

"It's okay," Tazer says, and Sharpy just stares at him. Has Tazer been replaced by a pod person? Is he _dying_? "Oh, shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Sharpy protests.

Tazer scowls. "It was written all over your face. Look, you haven't fucked up a job yet, and you're not going to."

"Right!"

"That wasn't a question, it was an order."

"Yes, sir!"

"So it's okay that you're... whatever." Tazer waves his hand around in a way that's probably meant to convey _emotionally compromised_ , or _an idiot_ , or something like that.

"...Devastatingly handsome?" Sharpy offers.

Tazer rolls his eyes. "That's not new," he says. "That's just a fact of life."

Sharpy preens. "You say the sweetest things."

The room's radio buzzes, and then Kaner's voice says, "Hey, get your asses out here before Eager and I decide to run away together."

Tazer presses transmit and says, "You're welcome to him, Eager," then releases it and says, "Let's go."

When they reach the garage, Eager is switching the license plates of a sleek black car to livery ones. Kaner is inside, stretched out to take up the entire back seat.

Sharpy greets Eager with a fist bump. Tazer, as usual, climbs into the front seat, leaving the back with Kaner for Sharpy. Of course. "Shove over," he demands.

Kaner swings his legs down. "Join me," he says with his sleaziest grin.

"Don't mind if I do." Sharpy gets in and closes the door behind himself -- it weirds him out too much when the guys act like real chauffeurs.

Kaner immediately scooches over into his personal space, leaning on his shoulder. "Let's be boyfriends tonight," he says, breath stirring the hairs on the back of Sharpy's neck.

_Settle down, cowboy,_ Sharpy tells himself, thinking cold and unsexy thoughts as hard as he can. "Up to Tazer," he says. "I don't even know what we're doing, remember?"

"You can be boyfriends," Tazer says. Sharpy's pretty sure they're looking at each other in the rear view mirror, but he can't see Tazer's face or read Kaner's.

"Awesome!" Kaner says, and blows a raspberry behind Sharpy's ear.

"Augh!" He smacks him away and scrubs his neck dry with his wrist.

"You love it," Kaner says.

"I do not," Sharpy says.

"Do too," Eager puts in.

"If you weren't driving, I'd smack you," Sharpy tells him.

Eager catches his eye in the mirror with a grin. "You could try."

"I could run away very fast and get someone to defend me," he tries.

"Sounds legit," Kaner says. "I'd defend you, though."

"From what, a fat puppy?" Tazer asks, then snort-laughs.

"My money's on the puppy," Sharpy says, and he gets his arms up just in time to defend against Kaner's attack. "Hey! Hey!"

Kaner gets his arm wrapped around Sharpy's neck. "Say uncle," he demands.

"Never," Sharpy gasps.

Kaner tightens his grip. "Say it!"

"Kaner, don't strangle him," Tazer says.

"Say uncle," Kaner repeats, right in Sharpy's ear..

"Fine, _uncle,_ " Sharpy says, just as his vision is starting to go sparkly at the edges.

"Good boy!" Kaner says. He gives Sharpy a big, smacky kiss on the cheek.

"Try to keep the murder out of my car, guys," Eager says. "Also, we're here."

"Thanks, dude," Sharpy says, scrambling out of the car. He's almost to the elevator before Tazer and Kaner catch up to him.

Tazer elbows Kaner so hard he stumbles.

"Sorry I choked you," Kaner says. "I got carried away."

"It's cool," Sharpy says. "I'm a little..." He waves his hand shakily.

"Squirrelly?" Kaner suggests.

"I was going to say 'on edge,' but sure."

The elevator dings, and they crowd in, Kaner and Tazer standing much closer to Sharpy than he would ordinarily prefer. This is starting to seem like a habit.

He does feel pretty squirrelly, though. If he had a big fluffy tail, he'd probably be twitching it around himself right now.

They ride up to the 22nd floor in mostly-comfortable silence. The condo is dark and still smells a little like the pizza Sharpy ordered in two nights ago. Tazer shoots him an unreadable look and goes to open the windows.

"I've been..." Sharpy starts to say, but he realizes he's just going to repeat himself, so he lets it trail off.

Kaner pats him on the shoulder. "You want some coffee or something?"

"Sure, that'd be good. There should be some left, I think." Kaner nods and heads into the kitchen, so Sharpy sits down on the living room couch and drops his head into his hands.

He sits there like that for a little while, listening to the domestic sounds of Tazer bustling around airing the place out and Kaner fighting with the coffee maker. If he pretends it's not them --

But no. Burish is gone, and he's happy there. Sharpy is just going to have to learn to be happy without him. As the poet said, "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." And he does love working with Tazer and Kaner.

"Coffee," Kaner says, putting a steaming mug on the table by Sharpy's knees.

"Thanks," Sharpy says. It's got milk in it, and probably sugar too, just how he likes it. Kaner sits down next to him with his own cup (black, so much sugar it's practically slushy).

After a minute, Tazer joins them, taking the armchair opposite the couch. "Ready to hear the plan now?" he asks.

"Think so," Sharpy says.

"We're entertaining Sid the Kid, the head of the Pittsburgh group, and getting him to ally their resources with ours. To do that, we need to assure him that we trust him, so we have to let him see something we wouldn't show just anyone. That's where the two of you as boyfriends come in." Tazer steeples his fingers. "If he thinks we're revealing something as sensitive as a relationship, the Kid will be more willing to take our requests at face value. Make sense?"

"But we're not actually dating," Sharpy points out.

Kaner waves this off. "The important thing is that we seem like we are," he says.

"Exactly," Tazer says. "So we take him out for dinner and a show, we make small talk, and by the end of the night, we're buddies."

"Sounds like a good time," Sharpy says, and Tazer nods decisively.

"So until then," Kaner says, "how about some Mario Kart?"

"I'll kick your ass," Tazer says.

"You can try," Kaner retorts.

Tazer scoops up the controllers from the coffee table and plops himself on the couch between Sharpy and Kaner. "I call Mario!"

***

When the alarm on Tazer's phone goes off, he says, "Sharpy, you get first shower," and shoves him.

"Hey! You made me off-road, fucker," Sharpy complains, but he hauls himself up anyway. "You know there are two bathrooms here, right?"

"You take longer to get ready than we do," Tazer says, attention back on Mario.

"He's right," Kaner says. "Go... gild the lily, or whatever."

"That's sweet, I think," Sharpy says.

On the one hand, he kind of wants to take a quick shower, just to prove he can. On the other hand, just from squeezing next to his annoying work partners for hours, he's so hard that the cool air on his dick when he strips off in the bathroom almost hurts, and he kind of wants to enjoy that.

Why not, if he has time? It's been kind of a while since he's wanted to jerk off. Not that Burish is the only guy he can get it up for, just... well, Burish is the only guy he _has_ gotten it up for lately.

Until now, apparently.

Sharpy soaps up quickly, then finds the bottle of conditioner he doesn't use on his hair -- he wouldn't waste the expensive stuff on jerking off, it's too nice for that. He squirts a generous amount into his hand, then wraps it in a loose grip around his dick. It's slick and cold and smells a little like vanilla, and he groans and arches into his own touch.

God, he's easy today. Sharpy wonders if he's limber enough to finger himself in the shower, then regretfully decides he probably isn't, not if he doesn't want to have to explain himself to Kaner and Tazer while they try not to laugh.

His dick twitches at that thought. Kaner and Tazer, Sharpy thinks to himself, that's who you're going to jerk off to? Really? But the image of the two of them bursting in on him in the shower won't go away.

In his mind's eye, they like what they see -- Sharpy with his fingers up his ass, on the floor of the big marble tub -- and take off their clothes to match him. Tazer replaces Sharpy's fingers with his own and orders Kaner, "Suck him off." Kaner gives him one of those naughty-choirboy smiles and then sucks Sharpy's dick, and oh, _God_ , Sharpy comes everywhere like a teenager.

Terrible, he tells himself as he finishes washing up, you're terrible. They're how much younger than you, seven, eight years? And they're together, you dirty old man, get it through your thick head... both of your heads.

Sharpy dries off and gets dressed in his nice gray suit, with a black shirt, a blue tie, and his silver St. Sebastian lapel pin prominently displayed. They're the tip of the iceberg as far as the Outfit is concerned, but Sharpy will be damned if they're not a great-looking chunk of ice.

His shoes are shiny enough; Sharpy steps into them and heads back out to the living room.

...Where Tazer has casually pinned Kaner to the wall, and appears to be searching methodically for his tonsils. Kaner's got both hands clutching Tazer's perfect ass -- in suit pants already, did they think it was a race? -- and, as Sharpy definitely doesn't watch, pulls him even closer.

Then Tazer moves down to Kaner's neck, and Kaner catches Sharpy's eye and winks. "See something you like?" he asks.

"I wasn't --" Sharpy starts to lie.

"You took so long I thought I'd get a head start on mussing Kaner up," Tazer says, taking a step away from Kaner. "You should take over, though."

Sharpy clears his throat. "I -- what?"

Tazer sighs heavily. "The _cover_. If the two of you are being boyfriends, and I'm being extra friendly to the Kid, you two should be the ones who've been making out."

"Does that make sense, or have I just been spending so much time with the two of you that I'm brain-damaged?" Sharpy asks.

"It makes perfect sense," Kaner says helpfully. He still hasn't moved from the wall. "Come on, you know you want some of this jelly."

And the hell of it is, Sharpy _does_ want some of that, although he really wouldn't call it _jelly_. "Fine," he says, and crosses the distance in two steps.

Kaner's looking up at him like Sharpy's about to give him a present. He can't take that kind of pressure, so he shuts his eyes and crushes his mouth to Kaner's without thinking about it anymore.

It's a good kiss, Sharpy can't even deny it -- deep and wet, Kaner melting against him. It's made even better by the fact that he can practically feel Tazer's gaze on him, like cigarette burns on his shoulderblades. Because he's a pervy old bastard.

Kaner pulls away, and Sharpy just has time to regret it before, oh, fuck, Kaner's licking his neck. Sharpy makes an embarrassing whining noise, and then Kaner pushes his jacket open and pinches one of his nipples. He arches his neck -- oh, _God_.

"Told you he'd like that," Tazer says, right next to Sharpy's ear, making him jump. "Oh, calm down." He clamps one hand down on Sharpy's shoulder.

That's right, this is just technique for them. Sharpy winces and shrugs them off. "Well, now you know my secret weakness," he says, forcing himself to sound cheerful. "Are we about ready to go?"

Tazer and Kaner exchange a look he can't read. "Sure, let's head out," Tazer says. "Eager should be downstairs by now."

"I'll meet you guys in the car," Sharpy says. He doesn't wait for confirmation, just leaves.

Eager beats him to the car door, but somehow knows he wants to sit shotgun, so Sharpy can't be too annoyed.

"They can be tough, eh?" Eager says.

"Yeah," Sharpy agrees.

Eager pats him on the arm with one huge hand. "We'll do shots sometime."

"You're on, my friend."

***

They're showing Sid the Kid the best Chicago has to offer, or at least what that means to Q and Tazer, and apparently tonight it includes dinner at a ridiculous Brazilian steakhouse.

"I hope you like meat," Tazer says to the Kid. Sharpy can't tell if that's supposed to be innuendo or not.

Sid laughs, though. It's surprisingly charming; he giggles like an actual kid, not a baby-faced mob boss. "I love meat!"

"So do we!" Kaner pipes up, scooting his chair closer to Sharpy's.

It's going to be a long night. Sharpy pulls Kaner in for a one-armed hug and a kiss on the temple. "I'm looking forward to the bacon-wrapped filet mignon, myself. How about you, babe?"

"Everything," Kaner says. "Well, everything but the salad bar."

"Hey, don't knock it," Tazer says. "The salad bar here is award-winning."

Kaner rolls his eyes. "Well, if you say so! Come on, honey, let's try it."

Sharpy lets Kaner pull him to his feet, giving the Kid a "what can you do?" smirk over his shoulder. "Hey, what's the rush?"

Kaner slips his hand into Sharpy's back pocket. "You're not being affectionate enough," he whispers. " _Darling_."

"I'm trying to be appropriate in public, _sweetie_ ," Sharpy says. He wraps his arm around Kaner's shoulders. "Better?"

They're almost at the salad bar. "Kiss me," Kaner demands.

"What?" Before Sharpy can react, Kaner grabs him by the collar and drags him down for a kiss. Sharpy cups the back of his head almost instinctively, tangling his fingers in Kaner's curls so he can try to control the kiss a little.

"Mmm, much better," Kaner says against his mouth, and Sharpy remembers that this is a performance. It's like a slap in the face.

He pulls away. "Salad time, sugar... lips," he says lamely, reaching for a plate.

Kaner laughs and hip-checks him. "Sugar lips? Is that the best you can do, honey pie?"

"Oh, you haven't heard anything yet, snuggle bear," Sharpy says, piling his plate with fruit and cheese.

"I hear strawberries are an aphrodisiac," Kaner says, taking several.

"They are not," Sharpy says. Or they better not be. He's having enough trouble keeping a lid on his libido as it is.

"It's true! Also oysters, and chocolate, and what's that stuff..." Kaner snaps his fingers. "You know, it's yellow."

"Saffron?" Sharpy guesses.

"Yeah!" Kaner looks pleased.

"Hah. You know what those all have in common? They're _expensive_ ," Sharpy says.

"What does that have to do with it?"

"People put out for people who spend money on them."

"You're such a romantic, _dear_ ," Kaner says, looping his arm through Sharpy's to walk back to their table.

"I didn't say that's the _only_ reason," Sharpy protests. "Just that if you think you need an aphrodisiac to get laid, the one you need most is your wallet."

Kaner snorts. "Like I said -- romantic."

***

The meat keeps on coming, on giant metal spikes, and so does the wine. By the time they're so full that Sharpy's afraid he'll split a seam in his pants, Tazer and Sid are leaning their heads together and gossiping like old friends; after the concert and a few more drinks, Sid the Kid is a firm ally of the Chicago Outfit.

"You have to come visit me in Pittsburgh," he says as they help him into his own limo. "This was great!"

"Good work, guys," Tazer says, fist-bumping Sharpy, once the car is out of sight.

"Yeah," Kaner says. "Good work, boyfriend!" He goes up on tiptoe to kiss Sharpy on the cheek.

Sharpy wipes it off with his sleeve. "I'm not your boyfriend," he says.

They ride back to the condo in silence. Kaner tries to catch Sharpy's eye in the mirror so many times that Eager gets frustrated and flips it so it's too dark to see.

Sharpy jumps out of the car before Eager can put it in park and heads for the elevator.

"Hey, Sharpy!" Tazer calls.

He stops. "What?"

"Do you, uh." Tazer scratches the back of his neck. "Do you mind if we crash here tonight?"

Sharpy can't decide if he'd rather ban them from the premises or beg them to stay in his bed, so he compromises. "There are two bedrooms," he says.

Tazer almost smiles. "Thanks."

He goes right to bed, pleading food coma, but can't get to sleep. There's no noise but the TV from the living room. He imagines he can hear Kaner and Tazer anyway, the soft wet sounds of their mouths and hands and dicks, the little groans and whines they let out despite themselves...

God, he feels like a creep. Pretending he's listening to them? That's just weird. But...

Sharpy reaches for the lube he keeps in the nightstand and pours some out into his hand. He can fantasize about them again; that's less weird than trying to hear the real thing, right? Of course it is.

He trails a wet finger down from his navel, over the sensitive skin next to his dick, around his balls, thinking of how good Kaner felt pressed against him. And when Tazer came up behind him...

Maybe Tazer would order Kaner to fuck him. Sharpy eases one finger in. Oh, yeah. That works for him, the idea of Tazer calling the shots and telling him and Kaner exactly what to do to each other.

Two fingers, and he gets a rhythm going, bracing his feet on the bed for leverage. He imagines Tazer lounging on his side, lazily jerking off, reaching out to stroke the curve of Kaner's ass or the side of Sharpy's face. Kaner looking up at him with that sweet smile, like he hung the moon, then sliding into him...

He wants it. He wants _them_. Just thinking about having them both in his bed, he feels almost dizzy with wanting. He could come just imagining rubbing himself against Tazer's leg, getting Kaner to jerk him off, oh, God, he wants it.

Sharpy barely touches his dick at all before he's coming -- again. Twice in one day, he thinks, pleased with himself. Maybe he's not so old after all!

He rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face in the pillow. He's going to sleep now, and he's damned well going to dream about something nice and innocent and not weird at all. Like ice cream.

***

Sharpy wakes up the next morning tangled in the sheets like he was trying to fight them. He smells coffee. Clothes seem like too much effort, so he just steps into a pair of boxers and wanders out to the kitchen.

Kaner's perched on one of the stools at the island, drinking coffee and flipping pages on his iPad. "Morning," he says through a yawn.

"Mmm," Sharpy mumbles. He has a plan. He opens the freezer, and yes! The world is a beautiful place: there's ice cream left over. He plops a scoop into one of the big latte mugs, then pours coffee over it.

"Ooh," Kaner says. "That looks good."

Sharpy steals his mug and puts some ice cream in it, then sits down next to Kaner and clinks their mugs together.

"Quiet morning, eh?" Kaner says. He takes a big gulp of ice creamy coffee. "Oh, hey, this is delicious."

It leaves a smudge of foam on his upper lip. Sharpy snickers.

Kaner grins. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He wipes at his forehead and his cheek with the back of his hand, deliberately missing his mouth.

"Nah, you're good," Sharpy says. "Hey, to change the subject, congratulations on finally reaching puberty."

He snorts into his drink and licks his upper lip. "Subtle."

The door behind Sharpy opens, and out stumbles Tazer, looking even blearier than Sharpy feels. He sits on the third of the four stools at the island and stares at the cups in Kaner and Sharpy's hands like he's not sure what they are.

Sharpy laughs -- poor guy, he really can't stand mornings -- and gets up to get Tazer his own half-assed affogato. Tazer looks at it suspiciously, then takes a sip, then another, and puts down the mug.

"Like it?" Sharpy asks. It's mostly a joke, since Tazer looks like he's seen the face of God.

Instead of answering, Tazer turns towards Sharpy, takes his face in his hands, and kisses him. Sharpy relaxes into it, kissing back, tasting sweet coffee and Tazer -- but only for a moment.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sharpy says, pulling back and forcing a laugh.

Tazer sighs, sounding frustrated. "Sharpy," he says.

"You don't have to... do all this," Sharpy says, narrowly remembering to gesture with the hand that doesn't have the coffee in it.

"But what if we want to?" Kaner asks.

Sharpy's about to say something, and it'll be good, when the radio on the counter buzzes angrily. "Kaner?" asks a voice.

Kaner puffs a breath out through his teeth. "Yeah?"

"Are you still at the condo?"

"Yeah, with Tazer and Sharpy," he says. "What's up?"

"There's a problem in Streeterville," she says. "We've got a couple of guys on the way, but it's going to take them longer to get there than we'd like."

Kaner gestures at Tazer and Sharpy like he's cutting off their legs, and they both race back to the bedrooms to get dressed. Sharpy throws on shorts, a sidearm, a polo shirt, socks, and sneakers, and goes back out.

"Navy Pier," Kaner says, zipping up his pants. "Those fuckers from Arizona."

"The hell?"

"Come on!"

***

Navy Pier is oddly quiet when they get there. It's a sunny day in the spring; the place should be lousy with sunburned tourists. But there's nobody. That's not good.

Tazer takes a few steps forward, then a few more. "The IMAX theater," he says quietly.

"You're kidding," Kaner says. "That's a really stupid place to hold people hostage."

"Those Arizona guys aren't exactly known for being brilliant," Sharpy points out.

"True," Tazer says. "Let's see if we can get a look."

They walk up to the theater doors and peek in the windows. It's pretty much what Sharpy expected -- two big, beefy dudes in maroon shirts with their backs to the doors, tons of tourists looking confused behind them.

"Okay," Sharpy says quietly. "I'm going to catch someone's eye. Get ready."

He looks through the window more carefully this time, and manages to make eye contact with a woman who looks very calm and together, sort of like an older version of Bailey from Grey's Anatomy. She seems to recognize him -- that or she likes his looks, but, he tells himself, beggars can't be choosers.

Now for Part 2. Sharpy mouths _We're here to help_ to the lady, then does his best to mime _Cause a distraction._

"Are you having a seizure?" Kaner asks.

"I'm an artist at work," Sharpy informs him. And hey, she seems to get it: when he looks back in, she's doing a pretty good imitation of someone having a heart attack. People are gathering around, and even the Arizona guys look concerned.

"Now," Sharpy says. He draws his gun, Kaner draws his, and Tazer slams himself against the door. It crashes open, and they throw themselves into the fray.

When the dust clears, they've got the idiots on the ground with no civilian injuries. Smith's ankle is probably sprained; Sharpy doesn't care. Bolly and Fro come racing in, and they're more than happy to take care of Smith and Torres.

"I have plans for you," Bolly says, running the flat of his knife down the side of Torres' bright red face. He's smiling, which sends a chill down Sharpy's spine.

"This is unfair!" Smith shouts, struggling in Fro's rock-solid grip. "You can't do this to us!"

"Oh, yes, we can," Tazer says.

"We just _did_ ," Kaner adds.

"I'm so sorry you all had to be involved in this," Sharpy says to the crowd still assembled. "This is not exactly the kind of welcome we like to give our friends from out of town."

"That was great!" chirps a little girl riding on her father's shoulders. "You were so brave! Are you a pirate? Can _I_ be a pirate?"

"Well, thank you, miss!" Sharpy says, giving a little bow in her direction. "You'll have to talk to your dad about your future career plans, but me, I'm not a pirate. I'm just a citizen of Chicago, and a Friend of St. Sebastian."

There's a little ripple of recognition, probably either locals or people from allied cities. Good. This can only improve their reputation.

_Wrap it up_ , Tazer mouths.

"Anyway, now that these miscreants are under control --" He kicks in Smith's direction. "-- you're all free to go. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to call on us, and I hope you all enjoy your time in Chicago!" And he lets Kaner and Tazer each take a hand and tow him back outside.

"You should've been an actor," Kaner says, squinting in the sunlight. "You're such a ham."

"Takes one to know one," Tazer says. "We all saw those home videos when your sisters visited."

They're still holding hands. "What you said before," Sharpy says, not letting go. "About... wanting to."

Kaner pats his concealed thigh holster. "I don't do stuff I don't want to do, Sharpy."

"You do sometimes," Tazer says, and wow, Sharpy likes that tone of voice.

Kaner laughs. "That's different," he says. "Also, I usually want to, just not as bad as I want you to make me."

Sharpy stumbles; Tazer catches him with an arm around the waist. "To be clear," Sharpy says, "we aren't talking about Kaner here needing a little extra incentive to do his cardio, are we?"

Tazer snorts. "Definitely not."

"We're talking about having sex," Kaner clarifies. "You know, bumping uglies? Making the beast with two backs? Engaging in, in... _coitus_?"

"I think I get what you're going for," Sharpy says drily.

"Are you sure?" Kaner asks. "Because we're willing to demonstrate." He leans in and licks Sharpy's neck, making him shiver all over.

"He liked that," Tazer says, and tightens the arm he has around Sharpy.

"Now, boys," Sharpy says, trying to keep his voice steady, "let's not go teaching people about the birds and the bees. We're still in public."

"The only people who can see us right now are _literally_ birds and bees," Kaner points out. "Nobody uses this path."

"We won't be in public for long," Tazer says. "Be patient."

"Patience is for losers," Kaner says. He's gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over Sharpy's knuckles, and for some reason, it's going straight to his dick, so Sharpy is inclined to agree with this statement. Not enough so to risk public indecency write-ups, though. ...Not _quite._

The three-minute walk back to the condo takes about five years. Sharpy considers checking for gray hairs at the end of it. Then Tazer shoves him back against the wall of the elevator so hard it almost knocks the wind out of him. "Ulp!" he protests.

"I'm going to explain this in small words, dumbass," Tazer says. "We want to have sex with you."

"Us," Kaner adds helpfully, gesturing between himself and Tazer. "Sex." He mimes a blow job and does a few pelvic thrusts. "You." He points at Sharpy.

"Thank you, Kaner," Tazer says, deadpan.

"Pity fuck," Sharpy manages to say.

Tazer shoves him harder. "No, asshole. We want you. We like you."

"Okay, the first time we thought of it, it was _kind of_ pity --" Kaner starts to say.

"Kaner," Tazer interrupts, scowling.

"-- but after that, it wasn't," Kaner continues. "Then it was like, you know, we're banging, and one of us would be like, 'Imagine if Sharpy were here, sucking your dick,' and it would be really hot."

"Really?" Sharpy asks Tazer. That's certainly flattering.

"Why would he lie about that?" Tazer asks. His voice is gruff, but he's starting to blush.

"And not just the insanely hot sex parts, either," Kaner goes on, ignoring Tazer's embarrassment. "Sometimes one of us would say, 'Hey, if Sharpy were here, maybe I wouldn't always be the little spoon.'"

"That was him," Tazer says. His ears are bright red, though, so Sharpy's pretty sure that's a lie.

The elevator dings, and Tazer lets Sharpy go. Back in the kitchen, Sharpy discovers that his ice cream hasn't melted yet, so he tips his head back and drinks the last of it. When he puts it down, Kaner and Tazer are both watching him.

"So," Sharpy says. "Shall we get to the insanely hot sex parts?"

Kaner throws his fists in the air. "Booyah!"

Tazer's face slowly breaks into a smile. "Bedroom," he says.

Sharpy prepares himself to feel awkward, but he doesn't have a chance before Tazer is pressing him back against the pillows, giving him one of those thorough kisses he definitely hasn't been thinking about. Well, not often. He slides his hands down Tazer's broad back and under the waistband of his shorts, and that ass feels exactly as amazing as it looks.

Kaner nudges him in the side. "C'mon, quit groping him and let me take your shirt off," he says. Sharpy obediently raises his arms over his head.

Tazer pulls away and says, "Leave it on his arms."

"What?" Sharpy asks.

Kaner laughs and twists the shirt bunched around Sharpy's wrists, holding them together. "So we can keep you where we want you," he says, trailing a finger around one of Sharpy's nipples.

Sharpy gulps. "Okay," he says, thinking maybe he's not such an old pervert after all.

Tazer sits back on his heels. "Nice," he says, and strips off his own shirt. "Sharpy, lie down."

"I'll help," Kaner says, before Sharpy can protest that it'll be hard with his hands bound. He plants one hand between Sharpy's shoulderblades, lowering him back down onto the pillows so Tazer can get his hips up and his pants down.

"Oh my god," Sharpy says. "I mean, I knew you two were a good team, but this is ridiculous."

Tazer looks up at him. "We haven't done this before. We just talk about it a lot," he says, then bends down and takes Sharpy's dick into his mouth.

Sharpy swears and tries really hard not to arch his back. "Jesus, you're like a snake," he says. "Do you have a gag reflex at all?"

"He represses it, like most of his feelings," Kaner says, and snickers. Tazer somehow manages to simultaneously flip him off and do something magical with his tongue, making Sharpy groan.

Then Tazer pulls off with a wet sound. "Sharpy," he says, voice the slightest bit hoarser than usual, "suck my fingers." He reaches up and pets Sharpy's face with one hand.

Sharpy curls his tongue around Tazer's first two fingers and sucks them into his mouth, and oh, God, it's like a feedback loop or something: Tazer makes a little moaning sound that feels _incredible_ on Sharpy's dick.

"Hey, I want to try something," Kaner says. "Leave your hands where they are, okay?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just moves down on the bed so he can lick Sharpy's nipple. Sharpy makes a noise that is very manly and nothing like a scream. "Like that, huh?" Kaner says, and does it again.

"Nngh," Sharpy says around Tazer's fingers. He can feel his balls tightening, so he struggles against the shirt a little, trying to get his hands free to signal him.

"It's okay, he likes it," Kaner says, and that is more than any mortal man can be expected to take. He comes in Tazer's mouth with another very manly shout.

When he's back to himself, panting, Tazer pulls his fingers out of his mouth and says, "So can I finger you now?"

"God, please," Sharpy says. "I love it when -- I mean --" He can't help blurting things out after he comes. God, and Tazer is tracing a wet finger around his balls. How do sentences work?

"I know," Kaner says. He leans over to mouth at Sharpy's other nipple.

"What do you mean, you know?" Sharpy asks. "Tazer, oh, God, quit teasing me!"

Tazer slips one finger into him. "Better?"

Sharpy groans. "Yes," he says. "I like it." He's never felt this, this _decadent_ , spread out to be touched and licked and fingered, unable to do anything but take it. It feels incredible.

"I mean, you're not _quiet_ ," Kaner says, lifting his head from Sharpy's chest just enough to be heard. "I could hear you through the walls, before."

"Oh." He hadn't thought of that. Not that he blames himself for not thinking, with Tazer fingering him so slowly he could die.

"What do you think about?" Kaner asks. "What's your fantasy, Sharpy?"

"Not you singing Ludacris," Sharpy says quickly, making Tazer snort. "I -- yesterday, I thought about -- God, Tazer, give me another one, please -- Tazer fingering me like this -- telling us what to -- you fucking me --"

"I think I got most of that," Tazer says, and adds a second finger, stroking in and out of him in a way that's both more satisfying and totally not enough at the same time.

"He likes it when you're bossy," Kaner says.

"So do you," Tazer says.

"Exactly."

Tazer pauses to think, then pulls out, and Sharpy bites his lip to keep from whining. "Slick up, Kaner," he says. "Sharpy, turn over."

It's awkward getting onto his stomach with his hands tied, but Sharpy doesn't want to untangle himself yet. He rests his head on his arms, feeling the bed dip a little as Kaner and Tazer get undressed and move around, getting themselves ready.

"Good," Tazer says, settling where Sharpy can see him. "You look good together."

"Of course we do," Kaner says. His hands are gentle on Sharpy's ass as he lines them up. "Sharpy'd make anyone look good."

"Where else do you think flattery could get you?" Sharpy asks. "You've got my ass whenever you're ready."

Tazer rolls his eyes. "I meant I like seeing you together," he says, and Sharpy watches his hand drift slowly to his dick. "It's nice."

"That's sweet," Kaner says. "Sharpy, you ready for me?"

"Kaner, I was born ready," Sharpy drawls, and Kaner pushes into him.

"Christ, your face," Tazer says. "You could be a statue. The one that art dealer who tried to seduce you had pictures of."

"The Ecstasy of -- oh, God -- St. Teresa," Sharpy says. He presses back against Kaner. "And thank you."

"He doesn't _feel_ like a statue," Kaner says. "He feels amazing."

"I could suck you off," Sharpy blurts out. "While he fucks me. Can I?"

Kaner's hips jerk, and Tazer closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he smiles craftily and says, "Say please."

"Please," Sharpy says immediately. "I want to." Kaner's dick rubs across his prostate, and God, it's so good. He wants Tazer to feel that good.

"Okay, okay," Tazer says, and then the head of his dick is nudging Sharpy's lips.

He takes it into his mouth, getting a groan out of Tazer. After that, it's easy to lose himself in feeling, with Kaner fucking his ass and Tazer fucking his mouth, rocking into both of them. God, he could come just from this. Maybe someday he will.

A bit later, Kaner gasps and chokes out, "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come," and he does, clenching his hands in the flesh of Sharpy's hips so hard he's pretty sure he'll have marks later. Then he flops down where he can see Tazer's dick in Sharpy's mouth and says, "Now, this should be a statue."

"Sure," Tazer says. "Put it up right next to the Bean in the park. Sharpy, close your eyes."

Sharpy shuts them just in time for Tazer's come to stripe across his nose and cheekbones. He finally gets his hands free of his shirt and uses it to wipe his face, then rubs his jaw muscles. "Wow," he says.

"That was really good," Tazer says.

"You're such a sap," Kaner tells him contentedly. "Come on, assholes, lie down. I want to cuddle."

"I'll be the little spoon," Sharpy offers, and Tazer kisses his neck. Writing the formal report can wait a little while longer, he decides.


End file.
